


Come (out, closer, now)

by micehell



Category: Dong Bang Shin Ki
Genre: Angst, Drama, First Time, M/M, Some Humor, mildy holiday-ish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-22
Updated: 2011-12-22
Packaged: 2017-11-12 03:21:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/486103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/micehell/pseuds/micehell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yunho had already had <i>the</i> conversation (or at least some semblance of it) many times, and except for the dog (and Yunho guessed he wasn’t the most obvious choice for a standard response), no one had reacted quite the way he expected.  Maybe this time…</p>
            </blockquote>





	Come (out, closer, now)

**Author's Note:**

> Written for an exchange. The recipient wanted coming out fic, plus Seme!Ho, nervous wreck Yunho, sex & a happy ending... all of which were awesome ideas, except the HEA part with a coming out fic kept throwing me for a while. ;)

_fourteen_

Yunho came out of the metro station and almost tripped over the dog. It was a mutt of doubtful parentage, with a retriever’s face on a beagle-sized body; if it hadn’t been starving it probably would have weighed a good thirty pounds. As it was it would have to gain ten pounds just to get near that weight, and it looked at Yunho with incredibly hopeful eyes, as if asking for his help in that department. Yunho, who hadn’t eaten since breakfast, just scratched the mutt behind the ears and shrugged. “Sorry, boy, but I’m broke, too.”

He walked away before those pleading eyes could talk him into spending his emergency reserve money (just enough to get him a bus ride home if worse came to worse). If he worked an extra shift at the restaurant tomorrow, which he could do since he didn’t have practice, he’d have enough to buy them both some soondae stew. But that was tomorrow, and right now all he could do was find an empty, out of the way bench and get some sleep.

When Yunho had first had to do this he hadn’t known anything about choosing his place. It had taken a couple of tries before he’d learned which benches were less likely to get him hassled by well-meaning grandmothers and cops, or less well-meaning gangs just looking for a target. By then he’d also learned the trick of folding himself up just right so that he fit on the bench and so that he’d stay as warm as possible during the night.

What he hadn’t learned was what to do about persistent dogs who had apparently decided he was the most fascinating thing ever, food or no. The mutt kept staring at him as he tried to sleep, hot breath hitting Yunho in the face right before the wet tongue did, sloppy kisses that made Yunho laugh even as he tried to wipe them away.

“I might be gay, but I don’t swing your way,” he told the dog, not discouraging his new friend in the least.

And maybe it was because he was so tired, a hard day of work on top of long hours of dance practice making him kind of punch drunk. Maybe it was the hunger that made it so much harder to shut out the loneliness and doubt. Or maybe it was just that he was a sucker for anyone that showed him affection, but whatever it was, Yunho snuggled the dog into the curve of his arms, not even minding that the dog needed a bath even more than he did.

Yunho dreamed; of telling his mother he was gay, of her hot breath on his face and of loving kisses. In the dream she didn’t cry or walk away.

The mutt was awake before Yunho was, warm against his chest. For the first time since it had happened, the memory of his mother’s tears didn’t sting as badly, and Yunho smiled through some more wet kisses before the dog left in search of better fed friends.

But Yunho bought an extra order of soondae stew that night just in case.

_thirteen_

“Gay,” Yunho said, tasting the word in his mouth. He coughed, trying to make his voice lower (and cursed the fact that it still broke high when he least wanted it to), and said it again. “Gay.”

His voice bounced off the walls of the shower, sounding louder than he’d meant it to, but that was okay. Yunho guessed he might have to almost shout it to be heard in the end, no matter how quiet the house might be when he actually said it to his mother; she was quite good at ignoring what she didn’t want to hear.

Most of him was sure she _definitely_ wouldn’t want to hear it: _you’re too young to know_ , _you’re confused_ , _you just haven’t met the right girl_. Part of him (the part that had been willing to go all the way to Seoul to chase his dreams, even in the face of his father’s disapproval and having to sleep outside like the cold and homeless) hoped that whatever else she said, she’d finish with: _you’re my son and I love you anyway_.

He toweled himself dry, looking at the too pale boy in the mirror. “I’m gay,” the boy in the mirror said to him, face calm but voice full of nerves. Yunho sympathized with him, his own stomach full of fluttering wings.

When Yunho came out of the bathroom, he looked as confident as thirteen years old and nervous as hell could, but even that drained away when he found his mother outside the door, one hand raised as if to knock, extra towels clutched tightly to her chest by the other hand.

She looked as pale as Yunho (as scared as Yunho) as she shoved the towels at him. He tried to say something (maybe just _Mother_ , maybe _I’m sorry_ , maybe _please don’t cry_ ), but she shook her head, the still-raised hand shaking as well, and walked away.

Yunho never said anything to her about it after that.

_twenty_

Yunho came out of Lee Seo Man’s office wondering if he should count the meeting as a success or not.

Pros:  
1\. His boss hadn’t freaked out at the gay thing in the least, not even pausing before he started in on the possible business ramifications of it and how to mitigate the chances of Yunho being found out. It made Yunho wonder how many times the man had had one of his artists tell him that… and who they were, though he felt a little bad about going there.  
2\. Lee Seo Man had set up another meeting with a couple of the older members in the agency, saying it was best to be at least somewhat prepared, but not to let the news spread too wide. He hadn’t seemed concerned about anyone being shocked or outraged, obviously expecting things to go well. Which, since everyone going into the idol business knew that it required more skinship and shipping than someone _excessively_ heterosexual would likely be comfortable with, _might_ not be too much to hope for.

Cons:  
1\. You never knew how someone would react when you said you were gay. You just didn’t.

Yunho had already had _the_ conversation (or at least some semblance of it) four times, and except for the dog (and Yunho guessed he wasn’t the most obvious choice for a standard response), no one had reacted quite the way he expected. Not even Jae.

But then his mother was the only one who’d actually been against it (her denial something they both clung to even now), so Yunho figured it was okay to at least be cautiously optimistic about the whole thing.

The second meeting was held in the basement practice room, the company even paying for orders of jjajangmyeon and soda, like Yunho had just invited the others to a casual get-together after practice instead of to a (potentially) shocking announcement. There were only five of them there, all of them people Yunho at least sort of knew, but he’d never felt stage fright like this, not even during that first Christmas special.

“I’m gay,” he said to their waiting (slightly black sauce stained) faces, figuring that trying to get fancy with how he said it now would only lead to certain disaster. It wasn’t like any of them weren’t already used to how blunt Yunho could be when he felt like it.

When he’d been trying to anticipate their reactions in his head, he’d figured on surprised gasps, maybe some _No!_ ’s or _Oh my Gods!_ ’s, perhaps even some murmured support (or horrified outrage when his nerves started expecting the worst). What he hadn’t expected at all was the utter silence.

It probably only went on for ten seconds or so, but it felt like an eternity to Yunho, one that was only broken by Heechul, sounding disappointed, saying, “That’s all?”

To which Yunho, sounding confused (because he definitely was), brilliantly replied, “Um?”

Heechul just shrugged. “Wasn’t like I couldn’t have guessed that. I thought, what with the take out and the basement and all, that you were finally going to tell us that Jaejoong is an alien. Or maybe that Changmin’s one.”

Leeteuk nodded. “Definitely Jaejoong, though Changmin and Yoochun would both be good bets, too.”

Yunho had a moment of dissociation, where he was torn between telling Heechul that his calling anyone else an alien was definitely a case of the pot and the kettle (not to mention that _Yunho_ wasn’t the only one whose sexual orientation could be guessed), and banging his head on the table until everyone started to make sense.

When Kangta started to argue with Heechul and Leeteuk that Yoochun couldn’t be an alien since he was obviously a fairy (“Not Yunho’s kind of fairy, the other kind… though, now that I think of it, maybe both.”), and BoA and Stephanie both fell asleep (no one’s schedule allowing much time for sleep), Yunho decided banging his head on the table it was.

_eighteen_

“I’m gay,” Yunho said, and waited for Jaejoong to laugh and say, “I know.” Or maybe to smile that mischievous grin and kiss him, Yunho couldn’t decide which was more likely.

Telling Jaejoong was accident that he’d meant to do, or rather he’d thought about it a long time and then blurted it out without thinking at all.

After Jaejoong neither laughed nor smiled, Yunho really regretted not thinking about it more.

It wasn’t that he doubted that his friend at least swung both ways; there’d been far too many times when they were off-camera (far out of the public eye) when Jae had been touchy-feely to a degree that made Junsu fidget and Changmin punch him. He might have been playing it up for effect, just another oddity in a personality that seemed to thrive on them, but it also wasn’t something he was adverse to obviously.

It wasn’t that Yunho doubted that Jaejoong at least thought he was attractive. A discerning eye was something Jae prided himself on, and his bandmates knew exactly where they stood on that front.

And even though Yunho was a bit of romantic, sexual orientation notwithstanding, he also knew that Jaejoong wasn’t, at least not at this point in his life. Just for fun hookups seemed to be Jaejoong’s idea of a good time.

So at worst Yunho had thought Jae would understand, at best… well, that Jae might want to have some fun (and consequently distract Yunho from doing the likely disastrous things the romantic in him thought would be a good idea (and from who the romantic in him wanted to do the disastrous things with as well)).

It wasn’t until later, when Yunho came out of his room looking for a midnight snack, that he found Jaejoong waiting for him. Jae pulled him into the kitchen and made him sandwiches and, in a more serious way than either of them were comfortable with, told him, “You know I don’t mind. You know I don’t. But… don’t tell the others. Yoochun and Changmin would understand and be okay, but Junsu would get all conflicted because of the religion thing, and what they don’t know won’t hurt you. And if… well, if things were ever to not work out, if the band should break up, even… I don’t want there to be any chance that someone will say that _that’s_ why.”

Years later, among all the many awful things people said about him when the break up did occur, Yunho had to admit he was thankful to Jaejoong that at least that wasn’t one of them.

_twenty-five_

It was Christmas Eve and the romantic in Yunho was enjoying the bite in the air (instead of bitterly wishing it was warm like the pragmatist in him had been doing yesterday). He smiled at the beautiful view they had from their balcony, the lights of the city twinkling like neon stars. It was rare to have a night off, especially at this time of year, and Yunho planned to make the most of it.

This last year had been a hard-won dream, and while it wasn’t likely they would win a bunch of the year end awards like he’d hoped (some of it sales, a lot of it politics, TVXQ hardly the only group to fall into that trap), Yunho supposed he could cry now, finally let out what he’d been holding inside for the last eight years, and that everyone would understand. They’d proven that the excitement over their comeback hadn’t just been nostalgia, and that he and Changmin together as TVXQ, as Tohoshinki, wasn’t just a flash in the pan. His grandfather would be proud, that Yunho knew for sure.

But he was twenty-five now, no longer the boy he’d been when he’d lost his grandfather and vowed not to cry again until they well and truly made it. Things were going well, and he and Changmin had hit the point where they weren’t switching back and forth over who was secretly fretting anymore (well, at least secretly in Yunho’s case, because he still felt he had to be strong for Changmin, even knowing that Changmin wasn’t fooled, and Changmin usually only hid his fretting from the agency and the fans). Crying wasn’t what Yunho wanted to do.

He’d come out to a fair amount of people in his life: some because he’d wanted to, some because he'd felt he had to, some almost by accident. But here at the year’s end, at _this_ year’s end, where it all could have gone so wrong but hadn’t, Yunho wanted to finally say those three little words (well, more two and a half, what with the contraction) to the one person he really should have told long ago. The one that the business person in him had wanted to tell at twenty, and that friend in him had wanted to share with right from the start. The person that the romantic in him had thought was a good idea back when he was eighteen and Changmin wasn’t even old enough to shave yet, let alone old enough to give Yunho the answer he would have hoped for. It would have been disastrous (might even be so now), but even with what Jae had said at the time, and even with everything that had come since, Yunho had never stopped thinking about it all the same.

The door to the balcony opened and Changmin came out to stand by him. “You’re going to get sick standing around in this cold,” he scolded, but mildly, because there was no one around to catch him being sweet.

“I’m gay,” is what Yunho answered. Bluntly, maybe even a little loudly, because it was tradition by this point, and Christmas Eve was made for them. And then he waited, which was also part of the tradition. Last time he’d told that to someone in his band, he’d had to wait hours to find out what they thought. Yunho just hoped it didn’t take that long this time around.

Yunho just hoped.

_twenty-three…_

Since he’d been fifteen and torn between wanting to prove he could make it and wanting to hide from the public eye, Changmin had been using Yunho as a shield. (Yunho who would do the talking for him if he didn’t want to say anything. Yunho who would usually try whatever ridiculous stunt someone had thought up for them first, letting Changmin watch and learn before he had to try himself. )

And even though he got tired of it sometimes, Yunho (who often tried to cajole him into standing out more, or even to guilt him into it at times, always telling him he could be even more popular if he just made the effort), always let Changmin do it.

Standing on the balcony of the apartment they shared, that same Yunho said, “I’m gay.”

And Changmin, who was usually content to follow Yunho’s lead, wondered what to say.

Tell him _I know_? It wasn’t like Changmin didn’t know, and had for years. Beyond even some of the things Yunho did that made it seem likely, there was also the fact that neither Jaejoong nor Heechul could hold their alcohol as well as they thought they could (just one of the many reasons Changmin avoided drinking with others as much as possible).

Jaejoong had been sad and sadly drunk (and still not old enough to legally drink) when he’d told Changmin, regretting how he’d handled Yunho telling him and slurring a lot as he said, “The least I should have done was tell him me too. Not that Yunho couldn’t guess, ‘cause everyone else seems to. ‘Course if I’d been nicer then, I might have been tempted to take what wasn’t mine just ‘cause it was convin-… convani-,” Jaejoong had trailed off, looking confused, and had eventually passed out before he could figure out how to say convenient properly.

Heechul had cornered Changmin at an agency party, drunk as a skunk and apparently wanting to share his alcohol breath with his fellow man, pulling Changmin into a tight shoulder hug as he’d whispered what had happened at the ‘secret’ office meeting earlier that month. “But if Yunho ever tells you, act surprised.” Heechul had pulled back then, looking at Changmin owlishly before he’d added, “Are you sure you’re not an alien?”

Even beyond those two, it wasn’t like Lee Seo Man hadn’t filled him in before they’d decided on their comeback, just in case it made a difference to Changmin about wanting to go on with Yunho or go on without him. The almost desperate air Yunho’s mother seemed to get when she set him up for blind date after blind date had been a clue, too, as had how quietly Yunho had accepted them.

Maybe Changmin should say how brave he thought Yunho was to admit it; to him or to any of the others. It was something Changmin had never quite worked out how to do, no matter how many times he’d thought about. No matter how much Changmin had wanted to tell Jae he was glad Jae hadn’t taken what wasn’t his, or to tell Lee Seo Man that it was just one of the many reasons that Changmin had stayed, or to tell Yunho’s mother (or Yunho himself) to just stop already.

But while he still hadn’t worked out how to say some of those things, he had spent years learning from watching Yunho do things first, so what Changmin could (finally) say was, “Yeah, me too.”

_… and always_

“Yeah, me too,” Changmin answered just seconds later, and Yunho smiled. The blinding one that always made Changmin smile back, because while _yeah, me too_ were hardly the most magic three little words he could have said, Yunho was fluent in Changmin by this point, and he knew just what they meant.

And that they meant just what Yunho had hoped. So, okay, it really would have been disastrous to come out to him (to come on to him) when Changmin had been sixteen, no matter what the romantic in him (and other parts as well) had wanted, but Changmin was twenty-three now, and he not only needed to shave every day, but there were days he probably should shave _twice_ (when their schedule went on too long and the breaks between the days started to blur, or when they had the night off and Yunho wanted to kiss him). Now there was nothing to stop Yunho from risking razor burn, nothing to stop him from leaning in close, nothing to stop him from taking the kiss that Changmin was willing to give him.

It was just like Yunho had hoped it would be; the shy duck of the eyes, the faint blush across those high cheeks, adorably shy even when his lips were kiss-swollen. Shy as he was, though, Changmin didn’t hesitate in kissing back, didn’t hesitate when he followed Yunho into his bedroom (though there was a moment he almost balked when he saw all the clothes piled up on top of the bed). Yunho threw everything off the bed, pushed Changmin down on it, laughing as they both bounced when he landed beside him.

He was just like Yunho had dreamed he’d be; the impatient click of the tongue when Yunho took his time getting rid of their clothes, exploring the long, lean stretches of naked flesh he uncovered, kissing his way down every inch of it.

Yunho kissed his way down every inch of Changmin’s dick, too, humming around it as it grew harder in his mouth, laughing around it as Changmin impatiently tried to push in deeper. Later (tonight, tomorrow, and every day after that), Yunho might tease more, but on this night he caved (just like he usually did), taking Changmin into his mouth as much as he could, using his hand where he couldn’t, and sucking for all he was worth.

Changmin couldn’t hold out long against Yunho’s undivided attention, barely having time to warn Yunho before he came, moaning as each pulse of his orgasm seemed to wring him dry. He was breathing hard when he was done, like they’d danced for hours, and he was smiling like it was their best show yet.

Yunho couldn’t hold out long against that smile, wanting to be buried deep inside Changmin as he came, but knowing he didn’t have time. He slid his dick into the come streaked across Changmin’s belly, drove it into the hard groove between his leg and hip; the friction, the feel of Changmin under him, burned through every part of him. Later (tonight, and perhaps even a time or two even later that night, plus every day after) he’d hollow Changmin out with eager hands, he’d push into Changmin so hard and deep they’d both feel it for days after, but for now this was just what he’d hoped it would be.

After so many years together, Changmin’s face was something Yunho knew better than his own, but it was something new (beautiful) from this angle. Something new in the satisfaction Yunho could see painted across it before he had to close his eyes, the pleasure that rushed through him so good it hurt.

Fucking like this, fucking _Changmin_ like this, was only one tiny part of what Yunho had hoped for (tonight, or any other night, really). Or maybe it was more than he really could have hoped for, it was too hard to say for sure now that he’d apparently come his brains out. Either way, Yunho was happy and warm and falling asleep with Changmin snuggled into the curve of his arms, not even minding that they both needed a bath.

Yunho dreamed; of telling Changmin he was gay, of his hot breath on Yunho’s face and of loving kisses. In the dream Changmin was the one who would never walk away.

Changmin was awake before Yunho was, warm against his chest, hard against his leg. Yunho smiled, deciding a bath could wait, and started working on all those laters.

/story


End file.
